In the hall they passed my lady's pale-faced maid, who looked furtively
under her white eyelashes at the two young men.

They were going up-stairs, when Alicia turned and spoke to the girl.

"After we have been in the drawing-room, I should like to show these
gentlemen Lady Audley's rooms. Are they in good order, Phoebe?"

"Yes, miss; but the door of the anteroom is locked, and I fancy that my
lady has taken the key to London."

"Taken the key! Impossible!" cried Alicia.

"Indeed, miss, I think she has. I cannot find it, and it always used to
be in the door."

"I declare," said Alicia, impatiently, "that is not at all unlike my
lady to have taken this silly freak into her head. I dare say she was
afraid we should go into her rooms, and pry about among her pretty
dresses, and meddle with her jewelry. It is very provoking, for the best
pictures in the house are in that antechamber. There is her own
portrait, too, unfinished but wonderfully like."

"Her portrait!" exclaimed Robert Audley. "I would give anything to see
it, for I have only an imperfect notion of her face. Is there no other
way of getting into the room, Alicia?"

"Another way?"